


In Memoriam

by notjustmom



Series: What if... [7]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: M/M, Mary exists, mostly angst, not my normal fluff, post Season 3 at some point
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-22
Updated: 2016-12-22
Packaged: 2018-09-11 02:15:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8949814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notjustmom/pseuds/notjustmom
Summary: What if the black stone we see John talking to at the end of Season 2 is never removed, by the request of both John and Sherlock, unbeknownst to one another? This bit takes place after Season 3.





	1. Chapter 1

John remembered what day it was as he was seeing his first patient of the morning.

Sherlock couldn't forget it. No matter how much he wanted to delete the date, it wasn't something he was allowed to remove from his hard drive. 

After the patient was sent off with a smile, John pressed the intercom button and muttered, "I need the morning off, please tell the others I've taken ill."

Mary sighed. "What others? I don't know why you're here. Go."

John mumbled, "I almost forgot, Mary. Somehow."

"He's been back for years now. He's safe. Well, as safe as he lets himself be, it's understa-"

"NO. It isn't. Damn. Sorry. But, you don't really understand."

"Explain it to me later if you want to. GO."

"Yeah."

 

Sherlock looked up at the threatening sky and sighed, but instead of going back upstairs to get an umbrella, he shrugged and simply turned up his collar, then began to walk. 

 

I can have it removed, quite easily, you know. - M

 

Sherlock didn't bother to reply, but hailed a taxi to where the black marker still stood. He figured it was his way of facing his mortality, if he actually thought about why it mattered. No. It wasn't that at all, if he were truly honest with himself. 

"I was happy for a time," he whispered to his reflection.

"Were you?" John asked him quietly.

Sherlock flinched at his friend's voice, but recovered swiftly enough that John might have missed it. He nodded. "Those months I spent with you were remarkable, John. This marker reminds me that I was happy once. I almost - "

"Almost, what?"

"Nothing. It doesn't matter in the least."

"Course it matters, please tell me?"

"I almost had everything I ever wanted."

"Oh."

"But I didn't know it then."

"When?"

"When what?"

"When did you know?"

"Right before I jumped. No. I knew at the Pool. I thought -"

John waited for a long minute before prompting, "You thought what?"

"At the Pool, I thought if we survive this, maybe, maybe I have a chance, but you never, I never, I didn't know, couldn't tell and then -"

"And then, you became complacent, thinking things would stay the same, until -"

Sherlock turned and faced the man next to him. "I lost you that day. I lost who I could have become with you, because I broke faith with you. You'll never truly trust me again, because I failed you that day. I didn't come home, John. I'm saying this badly. I think I said good-bye to you because I knew we couldn't ever be the same even if I did return 'undamaged.' I made you bury me. You mourned the man I had been, and I'm not even sure who you grieved for, exactly. The man you met at Bart's or the one who made you stay and watch - or one in between. I never have been a good man, John, but the better parts of me jumped so you could start over."

"And the other parts?"

"The other parts wish I had taken you with me."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a bit fluffier...

John cleared his throat and bent down to clear some old flowers away. "I would have gone, Sherlock. I would have followed you anywhere, all you had to do was ask and I -"

"I almost did."

"Why -"

"I thought I was smarter, John, thought I could beat him on my own. I was wrong. I beat him, but I still lost. I wanted to be the person you thought I was, I wanted to be brilliant again. He left me no option, John. He gave me a choice, wasn't really a choice at all - "

"Sherlock?"

Sherlock knelt next to him and picked up a fading rose and held it to his face, breathing it in. "Every year, she comes, I never see her, but every year, she leaves a blood red rose. I never was going to tell you. Not ever, John. He had guns on you, Lestrade and Mrs. Hudson. He believed he could bargain with your lives, and he was right. If I hadn't jumped -"

"No. Please. Sher -"

"I - I wasn't important to anyone until I met you, John. You saw me, no one else had bothered to see me, you saw something worth saving in me. No one else ever had. But, you spent less than 24 hours with me, and you -"

John was staring at a handmade card. " 'I still believe in Sherlock Holmes.' I believed, Sherlock. Day after day, week after week, I kept watching and listening for you to bound up those steps. You have no idea how much I wanted -"

Sherlock shook his head. "No. John - it would have been better -"

"Don't you dare. Don't." John stood up slowly and took Sherlock's pale face into his hands. "Don't ever tell me it would have been better if you had never come home. Charlie loves you more than life itself. She - I would have lost both of them without you. And as much as I adore them, Sherlock, bloody hell. You are and will always be my very best friend. I wouldn't trade these last few chaotic years for anything. Now. It's been a couple weeks since you've been to dinner and Charlie has been at me, she wants to learn the violin, and -"

"Oh, no. NO. John Hamish Watson. No way am I -" John winked at him and he sighed. "Do you know what a beginning violinist sounds like, John?"

"Something like a certain detective at three in the morning when he is pissed off at the world?"

Sherlock got to his feet and rolled his eyes. "Much, much worse."

John laughed and asked, "any cases on?"

"A couple, one that might be of interest..." He shoved his hands into his pockets as John listened intently as they made their way out of the cemetery and caught a cab to Baker Street.


End file.
